


Changing the Future

by Elayna



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Don't copy to another site, F/M, Fandom Trumps Hate 2020, First Kiss, First Time, Fix-It, Happy Ending, M/M, established relationship (in epilogue), major character death of a bad guy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:41:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24478894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elayna/pseuds/Elayna
Summary: What if Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were the dyad? But only the wrong person realized it?
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 24
Kudos: 70
Collections: Fandom Trumps Hate 2020





	1. Coruscant

**Author's Note:**

  * For [treescape](https://archiveofourown.org/users/treescape/gifts).



> For treescape, for her donation in the Fandom Trumps Hate 2020 auction. She asked for a canon Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan fic, and treescape, I hope you enjoy this result. I used a combination of canon from the Star Wars movies, as well as some canon from the Jedi Apprentice novels, and the resulting fanon, but probably have ignored some canon. I did end up fixing one element that always bothered me about the Jedi from the prequel trilogy. Chapters 1 through 3 are about Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, my first slashy love, but the epilogue in Chapter 4 is Reylo, my newest Star Wars pairing. Hugs to Seaward for the support and betaing. I fussed one last time before posting, so all mistakes are mine. Comments and kudos greatly appreciated!

The cries were horrifying, shrill and frightened, victims screaming for mercy and receiving none from black clad figures. The red and black demon with horns who had almost ended Qui-Gon's life, a tall figure with a black mask, and a third in black and silver, all with the red lightsabers of the Sith. A fourth whose features were hidden by his hooded robe, but the lightning arcing from his fingers was as deadly as a saber. 

Pain shot through Qui-Gon, who felt the saber pierce his chest, and he woke gasping loudly, clutching at the healed wound and struggling for breath. 

Trying to collect himself, he threw off the covers, swinging his legs to sit on the edge of his bed, burying his head in his hands. Without its normal tie, his hair fell loose around his shoulders. The nightmares seemed relentless, visions of a future that Qui-Gon was desperate to avoid. Something was missing, some vital element that would bring him reassurance and peace. He had thought Anakin was the One to bring balance to the Force, but then why did he feel so haunted? How did he find what was needed, what was still missing?

He was a Jedi master. He could not succumb to bad dreams and ridiculous fears. Anakin was the One, and the nightmares were just a remnant of the fear caused by almost dying. He sat up straight, running his hair back with his fingers, not entirely surprised to see Obi-Wan standing by his bed.

He was losing his mind as well as his body. The sporadic sharp pain, bad dreams, and now waking hallucinations.

The visions he'd been having of Obi-Wan weren't the same as when he last saw him though, during their confrontation with the horned demon. Obi-Wan was a knight now, and was letting his hair grow. It was almost down to his shoulders. Qui-Gon was pleased to see that he'd kept the padawan braid, though it was less noticeable in the midst of his longer hair. Was he waiting for the day that Qui-Gon could cut it off and keep it as a souvenir?

Force, he was not only losing his mind, he was creating fantasies that fulfilled his wishes. There was no reason to assume his visions reflected reality. For all Qui-Gon knew, Obi-Wan could have snipped his braid off while Qui-Gon was still in bacta. Not all padawans were sentimental about the symbol. The braid could be slowly decomposing in a garbage heap on Naboo. 

"Master Qui-Gon?"

Anakin's voice was frightened, making Qui-Gon feel guilty. He needed to stop scaring his padawan. "I'm fine, Padawan, just a bad dream."

Anakin hovered at the doorway, clearly hesitant to enter but unwilling to leave. "Can I get you some tea?" 

"That would be a kindness. Thank you, Padawan." 

Anakin retreated to their kitchenette as Qui-Gon turned back to the vision of Obi-Wan. He had seen him several times over the last few months around the Temple, usually running, as if for his life, once with his saber lit and occasionally deflecting blaster bolts. The first time he'd almost called out, but then Obi-Wan had disappeared, still running. He'd looked around, but no one else appeared to have noticed him. Qui-Gon had silenced his instinctive cry, trying to decipher the cause and meaning of the vision. He had tried to find out from Yoda whether his former padawan had been in danger, but his former master had been incredibly unhelpful. The Council members had always tended to be tight-lipped about assignments, but were even more so now, with the new Chancellor's insistence on confidentiality. Even the Temple gossip mill had been disappointingly unhelpful. 

Obi-Wan was a very young knight, making it more likely he would have been sent to situations that might become enflamed. He easily could have been running for his life in reality. But why would Qui-Gon be seeing him?

Except, of course, if he was losing his mind. 

At least this Obi-Wan was calm, standing straight, hands tucked into the sleeves of the opposite arms. Qui-Gon devoured Obi-Wan with his eyes, murmuring, "I wish you were real and not—" 

Not another sign that something was severely wrong with Qui-Gon. Maybe it was time to talk to the healers, to admit to the pain, nightmares, and visions. If not for Anakin, he would have gone to them after the second time he'd seen Obi-Wan, but the boy's position was still precarious. A master with issues was better than no master at all.

And admittedly, Qui-Gon had always been somewhat bullheaded about seeking help. 

"Qui-Gon? Can you see me?" 

Obi-Wan's expression was surprised, and his voice—Qui-Gon had always loved his voice, the smooth tones, imagining far too often what that voice might sound like saying his name in passion. Or even better, gasping out 'Master' as he came. Qui-Gon frowned at the apparition. Was he now having auditory hallucinations as well as visual? "Obi-Wan?" 

"You can! Qui-Gon, it's so good to see you. You look—not well, my Master." 

"I've been having nightmares." He forced himself to stand, walking away from the vision and toward his closet. "And now I'm having hallucinations." 

"Qui-Gon, I'm not a hallucination. I am seeing you. I've seen you several times since I had to leave you on Naboo." 

Having a conversation with a hallucination was not a good sign of his mental state, but Qui-Gon couldn't resist any connection with his former padawan, even if it was only his mind talking to itself. "You've seen me?" 

"Yes, Master. Just brief glimpses, usually of you walking, but then you would disappear almost immediately. My missions have been hectic. I thought—I thought you were a fantasy caused by fatigue and my own wishes." 

Could this be true? Was he actually talking to Obi-Wan? As a Force vision of some sort? Or was his hallucination becoming even more fantastic? 

"Here you go," Anakin said, walking into his room, a cup of tea held carefully in his hands. "Your favorite."

"Thank you, Anakin," Qui-Gon said. From his place by his closet, he looked pointedly at Obi-Wan. 

Anakin followed his gaze, clearly seeing nothing unremarkable, before turning back to Qui-Gon. "Master?" 

"If you could put it by the bed?" 

"Yes, Master," Anakin said, obeying but continuing to hover, eyes averted, as Qui-Gon discarded his sleep clothes and pulled on a soft pair of trousers and a tunic. He sat back down on the bed, drinking the tea gratefully. It was perfect, hot with just a little sweetening. 

"It'll be fine," he said reassuringly. He'd almost forgotten this part of being a master, having to be a paternal figure to a young boy. Obi-Wan had been slightly older than Anakin when Qui-Gon had taken him as an apprentice, and raised at the Temple. He'd had issues, being small and insecure, but he hadn't been adapting to a completely new world with an old and cranky master who kept having nightmares and hallucinations. Thankfully, Anakin hadn't realized the latter, only that his master was very busy with Temple business. "I'm sorry for waking you." 

"It's fine, Master. I wish there was something I could do." 

"I'm sure this will pass soon." Qui-Gon smiled again, a smile he feared came across as more like a grimace. "I believe nightmares can be a side effect of a lengthy period in bacta." 

Except that he and Anakin had been at the Temple for almost six months, long enough for such side effects to have faded away. Fortunately, Anakin wasn't likely to know much about bacta. Slaves on planets like Tatooine rarely got good medical treatment. 

How was Shmi Skywalker doing? Was she missing her son as much as Qui-Gon thought Anakin still missed her? As much as he missed Obi-Wan? 

"I hope so," Anakin said, though he looked doubtful. "Have you talked to the healers?" 

"I will be fine, Padawan. You don't need to be concerned about me," Qui-Gon reassured him. "You should get more rest. I believe I will go to the Temple gardens to meditate for a while." 

"Yes, Master." 

Anakin turned away from the bed, and Qui-Gon caught sight of a discoloration peeping out beneath the short sleeves of his sleep tunic. "Anakin." Qui-Gon reached out, catching him around the forearm. "What is that?" 

"Oh—it's nothing, Master." 

"Anakin." 

With a sigh, Anakin raised his sleeve, letting Qui-Gon see the full extent of the bruise, the mottled skin on his upper arm. "We got a little rough in training, that's all." 

Qui-Gon's face tightened in displeasure. Despite the sense of unease he'd been feeling, he still believed that taking Anakin on as his apprentice was a decision guided by the Force, but he was beginning to accept that he hadn't considered all the difficulties. Having been raised on a backwater planet like Tatooine, Anakin was not only new to the Jedi and the Temple, but to the civilized planets of the Republic. Shmi had clearly had some education, and had done her best to teach him, but he was behind his agemates in every subject that didn't involve droids and spaceships. On those he excelled and could teach master classes. The other children at the Temple were jealous of such a young and uneducated boy being chosen as a padawan, feeling it undeserved, and this was not the first time they’d been 'rough' in training. 

"Get some rest," he said. This wasn't a battle to fight with Anakin himself, but with the master overseeing the youth training. Those potential padawans should be taught to handle their emotions better. And Qui-Gon needed to start saying no to the Council and all the requests from the Chancellor's office. He needed more time to spend with his padawan. "I'll be back before breakfast." 

"Yes, Master." 

"I could tell that you were talking to Anakin from what you said, but I couldn't see or hear him," Obi-Wan said conversationally as Anakin left the bedroom. "What was wrong with him?" 

"You mean my hallucination couldn't tell that my padawan had a bruise from jealous trainees?" 

"I'm not a hallucination, Qui-Gon. I'm Obi-Wan, and I'm here, in your room, though I'm not sure how. Can you see anything around me?"

"No," Qui-Gon answered shortly, draining the rest of his tea and putting the cup down. He couldn't resist adding, "Why should my hallucination have a background?"

"I'm not—" Obi-Wan blew out a frustrated sigh. "Have you talked to the training master? Though I'm not sure that'll do much good. Even when I was a trainee, he was always oblivious to the petty jealousies among us. You might want to talk to Yoda or Mace."

Qui-Gon took a moment to stare at Obi-Wan. The knight looked a little thinner, like perhaps he had indeed been running for his life several times, but so gorgeous. His clothes were pristine, his boots highly polished. From the expression on his face, he was both a little annoyed with Qui-Gon, which wasn't entirely uncommon though he used to hide it better, and also concerned about Anakin. Perhaps it was foolish to hope that he did still have the braid, but Qui-Gon desperately wanted to curl it around his fingers, to slice it with one clean stroke from Obi-Wan's head, to keep it forever as a symbol of their relationship. "And now my hallucination is giving me advice," he said. "Which since this is from my own head, perhaps I should listen to myself." He slipped his feet into soft slippers and walked away from his fantasy. 

"Is it your own head telling you that you're stubborn?" Obi-Wan yelled after him. 

Qui-Gon kept walking. 

~~~ 

The Temple Gardens were divided into several sections, featuring flora and fauna from different worlds. Qui-Gon found his favorite spot by a small waterfall, kneeling in the dirt by a cluster of vibrantly hued flowers, letting the pleasant scent fill his nostrils as he listened to the gentle fall of the water. He cleared his mind and tried to let the Force guide him. 

Anakin, and all he had to learn, and his future, which Qui-Gon was sure would be important to not just the Jedi but the entire galaxy. 

Qui-Gon's continuing nightmares of the Sith attacking and killing innocents. 

The phantom pain that he still sometimes felt, like a lightsaber piercing his chest. 

Maybe it was the pain of missing Obi-Wan. The young man had been by his side for almost a decade. They hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye in person; Qui-Gon drifting in the bacta tank on Naboo when Obi-Wan was ordered to leave for his first mission. Jedi resources were always stretched thin, and the Council couldn't let a knight sit around idle. Especially now, with the new Chancellor doing his best to get the Senate functioning more productively and the worlds of the Republic cooperating better. 

Obi-Wan. His hallucinations of his padawan, and now an entire conversation with him. Obi-Wan had looked so real, so solid. 

Sighing, Qui-Gon realized that his thoughts had drifted again to Obi-Wan, and away from Anakin, which was the pressing concern. If something was going wrong with Qui-Gon's mind, he had a responsibility to make sure that the boy would be trained. That’s where he needed to keep his focus. He opened his eyes, not surprised to see Yoda sitting by him, his webbed feet in the water. His old master always knew when Qui-Gon was troubled. 

"Disturbed, you are." 

"Yes, Master." 

"Nightmares you have?" 

Yoda always had been a lucky guesser. Why else would Qui-Gon be awake so early in the morning? "Yes, Master. Of the Sith. More than one. And Anakin is having troubles with the other children."

"Difficult it is, to go from being a slave to a padawan."

"It is a more complicated transition than I had imagined," Qui-Gon admitted. 

Yoda snorted. "Imagined, you did not. Confident you were, that everything you could handle." 

Qui-Gon sighed. His master did have a tendency to be annoyingly correct, especially when he was essentially telling Qui-Gon 'I told you so.' "Yes, Master." 

Yoda only hmmmed, seemingly absorbed in watching his own feet play in the water. Yoda's species had lived in swamps, and Qui-Gon knew he was always fond of being wet. "Something needs to change, Master."

"Something changed, it did." Yoda reached out, touched Qui-Gon's side. "When Obi-Wan saved you."

"I never expected him to have such power." He had accepted he was dying, killed by his nameless opponent, only relieved that Obi-Wan would live, that Obi-Wan would train Anakin. His padawan would never abandon a promise to him. He had never expected Obi-Wan to have such strength, to pour energy into him, enough to keep him alive until he could be rushed to a bacta tank. 

"Desperate he was. Save you he had to. Most unusual, what he did." Yoda's ears tilted downwards as he did when particularly struck by a fact. 

It was Qui-Gon's turn to hmmm. Could Obi-Wan have forged some sort of link between the two of them when he'd saved his life? Life bonds were the stuff of legends, tales of Jedi long gone, but maybe there was some truth in them? Or maybe Qui-Gon was grasping at myths, anything to stop himself from admitting he was losing his mind. "Something needs to change for Anakin."

"What think you?"

"The boy needs his mother," Obi-Wan said, making Qui-Gon glance to see his hallucination standing close, looking exactly as he had in Qui-Gon's bedroom. "Queen Amidala is horrified that we haven't got her out of slavery. He's not like us, brought to the Temple as babies. He was raised in a family."

One of Yoda's ears flicked ever so slightly, his eyes looking toward Obi-Wan, like he might have heard a noise, but otherwise he didn't move at all in response to Obi-Wan's sudden participation in their conversation. The hallucination of Obi-Wan—Qui-Gon's own mind—did have a good point. "We need to rescue Shmi Skywalker." Yes. That was right, that was true. This must be a result of his meditation. Anakin hadn't been brought to the Temple as a baby, like most of the Jedi trainees, including Qui-Gon himself. He'd known a mother, and the woman who'd sacrificed for him was still Watto's slave. Though Anakin had committed himself to the Jedi, his heart would always be divided until she was safe.

How that would help Anakin if Qui-Gon went insane, he wasn't sure, but it seemed a good first step. Rescue Shmi, bring her to Coruscant, help her get settled. It would be an unusual situation, a padawan keeping in touch with his birth family, but her support would surely help Anakin. Qui-Gon was never afraid of being unconventional.

Yoda nodded, his ears twitching. "Think this is necessary, do you?"

"Master, I do. The boy was raised in a family. It must be distressing him to know his mother is still a slave. I believe rescuing her would be good for him." 

Yoda closed his eyes, and Qui-Gon could almost feel the surge of his power as he sought guidance from the Force. "Take my ship, you shall."

"Master, thank you." The gesture was surprising, only convincing Qui-Gon of the rightness of his choice.

"A good size it is, for the two of you."

As it had been, for the two of them, when Qui-Gon had been Yoda's padawan. The smaller bunk would fit Anakin fine, as it had Yoda, and Shmi could have the extra cabin.

"Difficult it will be though," Yoda continued. "Buy slaves, the Jedi do not."

Yoda was correct. The Republic did not condone slavery, and the Jedi would not participate in it by buying someone, even if it was to liberate the person. Watto would be on his guard and would not lose another slave easily. "We shall have to find some other way to free her." 

"I'll talk to the Queen. Perhaps she will have a useful suggestion." 

Qui-Gon risked another glance at his former padawan, but Yoda still seemed unaware of him. "Master, where is Obi-Wan?"

Yoda gave him a look of surprise, as he had the other times that Qui-Gon had tried to find out. Diplomatic negotiations were sensitive, and the Council rarely revealed a knight's mission. Maybe Qui-Gon should reconsider his decision and join the Council, at least then he'd be allowed to keep track of Obi-Wan. And maybe be able to brush off some of the Chancellor's relentless demands. "Think of him, do you?" 

"Yes, Master. Frequently." 

The hallucination smiled. "I think of you frequently too, Master. Why don't you just ask him if I'm on Naboo? I've already told you that I've talked to Queen Amidala about Shmi. You must have realized where I was." 

"Confidential mission it is." 

"Is he on Naboo?" 

Yoda's ears twitched with displeasure. "Heard that, have you?" 

Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan, who looked smug. It was a good look on him, but then most expressions were. "Someone did mention it, yes."

"Needed an easy mission, he did. A difficult time he has had." 

"I understand that he's had to run for his life several times." 

"Too many times," Obi-Wan added. "I look forward to telling you all about it, Master."

Yoda glared. "Talk too much, the other Council members do. Obi-Wan will appreciate some time sitting."

"Will you now believe that I'm not a figment of your imagination?" Obi-Wan asked, his tone coaxing. "Please stop being stubborn. We need to talk about this." 

Qui-Gon stood. Was the Chancellor keeping Obi-Wan as busy as Qui-Gon? It was unusual for a new knight to be on missions quite as long as Obi-Wan had been, but everything seemed unusual with the new Chancellor. "With your permission, we'll leave today."

"And the training master?" Obi-Wan prompted him. "Have you already talked to him about the training master?" 

"I'd like to talk to you more about Anakin's training and the training master," Qui-Gon said, looking down at Yoda, who was still paddling his feet in the water and appeared likely to spend some time meditating by himself. Or maybe just playing in the water. His old master could enjoy being childish. "And my own schedule. It would be better if I was freed up to take over his training entirely. He doesn’t fit with his peers."

"Fit with his peers he needs to. His fellow knights they will be."

He’d already managed one successful request. Qui-Gon backed off. "It can wait until I return." 

Yoda arched his eyebrows, but let the subject drop, no doubt realizing it was only for now in Qui-Gon’s opinion. "May the Force be with you, my Padawan." 

"And with you, my Master." 

As Qui-Gon began to walk away from Yoda, he looked at Obi-Wan, hoping that the knight would understand to follow him. 

Instead, Obi-Wan glanced away, and said, "I'll be right there," to someone who Qui-Gon couldn't see. "I'll be back as soon as I can, Master." With that, he disappeared, blinking out of existence.

In the quiet of the morning, there was an unpleasant squelching sound, but Qui-Gon deliberately didn't look at Yoda. His master was well aware of what the groundskeepers would say about the amphibians around the pond being used as snacks. He didn't need a reminder. Instead, he continued walking, hoping that Obi-Wan would find him soon, but knowing that if the apparition really was Obi-Wan, it could be hours before he reappeared. Diplomatic negotiations were lengthy events. And would Obi-Wan be able to find him on Yoda's ship? Should he delay leaving Coruscant? 

But no… Obi-Wan had clearly been on several different planets when Qui-Gon had seen him, so it was only logical that they could connect no matter where they were physically. 

Qui-Gon's pace sped up. He wanted to get Anakin and leave the planet. In space, he and Obi-Wan would have time to talk without interruption. Time to discuss what was happening to them and how it bound them together.


	2. Space and Tatooine

"Master Qui-Gon? Are you okay?" 

"I’ve been expecting Obi-Wan to get in touch with me," Qui-Gon admitted. That sounded safe to admit. "I’m anxious to hear from him."

"I can let you know if we get a comm," Anakin offered, and Qui-Gon realized his fidgeting in the navigator’s seat was probably annoying the boy. 

"Thank you, Padawan. I’ll leave you to it. Would you like a drink, some water or tea?" 

"No, Master. Thank you."

Qui-Gon left Anakin in the cockpit. Neither of them really needed to be there, the autopilot and proximity alarms were sufficient, but Anakin had been thrilled to pilot Yoda’s ship and clearly would have to be pried out of his seat. 

Yoda was generous to offer his ship, but it was small, and Qui-Gon had found it confining even before he reached his full height. He paced the small living area for a while, finally deciding to make a cup of tea. He turned, and jumped back before he could bump into his former padawan. "Obi-Wan!"

"Master. Can we talk now?" 

"Anakin is in the cockpit. You look good, Obi-Wan." 

"Thank you, but I know I've lost weight. These last few months have been hectic. The Chancellor has a lot of plans, which have not always gone smoothly." Obi-Wan looked down at himself, at the belt that was clasped tighter than normal, before raising his head. "You—look tired, Master." 

"I’m not your master any longer. You should call me Qui-Gon all the time now." Qui-Gon grimaced. "I've been having nightmares. It's been disturbing my sleep." 

"You will always be my master," Obi-Wan replied, his voice unusually hoarse, and Qui-Gon felt his body twitch in response. "I'm sorry to hear about the nightmares. Have you talked to the healers?" 

"It's only nightmares," Qui-Gon said dismissively. Why did everyone keep asking that? Of course, Obi-Wan had always tended to fuss over him, to make sure that Qui-Gon was taking proper care of himself, even though it was Qui-Gon's responsibility to take care of him. "But when I saw you—"

"You thought I was a hallucination, I understand. I had a similar thought. But clearly—" He waved his hands between them.

"So you have kept the braid."

"I—" Obi-Wan touched it, slid his fingers down it. "I will keep it until you can remove it, Master. Qui-Gon."

"I appreciate that. It would not—feel right, if I was not the one."

"Yes, Master. You are the one," Obi-Wan murmured. "I had thought that I could heal you completely. I wish that they had allowed me to do so." 

"On Naboo?" Qui-Gon asked in surprise. He had thought he was dying, and then came to consciousness drifting in bacta. Yoda had only said that Obi-Wan had saved him with an energy infusion, but that no one understood how. Between the frenetic happiness of Naboo's citizens at being saved from the Trade Federation’s attack and starting on training Anakin, Qui-Gon hadn't been able to track down more details of how Obi-Wan had saved him, too busy and too grateful at being alive.

Obi-Wan nodded. "I poured energy into you. I was desperate to keep you alive. I could tell you were healing, and then some of the Naboo military came rushing in. They grabbed you and rushed you to a bacta tank. I tried to tell them to leave me alone, that I was saving you, but I was too weak. They thought they were helping." 

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon reached out before he thought, and grabbed Obi-Wan's upper arm. "I’m grateful they stopped you before you drained yourself. I would not have wanted to live if it meant you dying." 

The breath Obi-Wan exhaled was shaky as he stared down at Qui-Gon's hand curled around his arm. "I don't know if I would have wanted to live if you had died."

"You would have needed to train the boy." 

"And I would have. But it's better this way."

"Anakin—"

"Master!" Obi-Wan wrapped one hand around Qui-Gon's wrist. "The boy is not the issue right now. We're touching. I'm on Naboo and you're in space and we're touching." 

"Yes." And Obi-Wan's hand felt warm and strong, his arm solid in Qui-Gon's grip. It felt so good to touch him. 

"Have we life bonded? Did I do that to us?" 

"I hope not," Qui-Gon responded, not thinking how Obi-Wan might take those words until he saw the flash of hurt cross his face. 

"Master? How is Obi-Wan here?" 

At Anakin's question, Obi-Wan jerked away from Qui-Gon, breaking his hold on him, and Obi-Wan disappeared in one heartbeat. 

"That wasn't a holo projection," Anakin said slowly. 

"No, Padawan, it was not. I don't know what it was." Tea. He definitely needed that tea now. And maybe Yoda still stored a bottle of Corellian brandy in his secret hiding place. "Tea, Padawan?" 

"Yes, please. I've left the autopilot on." 

He needed to apologize to Obi-Wan, to explain what he'd meant, but first he had to explain what was happening to Anakin. If he could explain what he didn't understand. "Yes, that's fine. Don't feel obligated to sit in the cockpit."

Anakin sat down at the small table where Yoda and Qui-Gon had eaten many meals together. "So how was Obi-Wan here?"

Qui-Gon took his time heating the water and measuring the leaves, before checking Yoda's hiding place and finding the brandy. He was sure his master would forgive him. "We don't know for sure," he said, sitting down with his padawan as they sipped their tea. "It's possibly something like a life bond, though those have always been considered as mere fables." 

"That would be wizard, right? Then you and Obi-Wan would have to be together forever. I know you've missed him."

Together forever… Qui-Gon wished for that to be true, so desperately. Except no, he didn't, of course he didn't. Obi-Wan was a young knight. He needed to make his own path, not be chained to an old man. "We've been separated for six months. There's no reason to assume we would need to be together." 

"But you've been having nightmares. And Obi-Wan looked very thin. Maybe you need to be together." 

Could an incomplete link between them be the cause of Qui-Gon's nightmares? Did they need to stay in proximity now? No, that was surely Qui-Gon's own yearning. "Obi-Wan is thin because he's been busy. The life of a Jedi is a difficult one. And I've—" Been having nightmares for no real reason I can excuse. 

"Have you talked to the healers?"

Anakin and Obi-Wan were relentless. Why did everyone fuss over him so? "I would like to try to contact Obi-Wan again, Padawan. Would you mind returning to the cockpit? You may take your tea with you." 

"Of course, Master." Anakin stood, his cup in his hand. "Say hello to Obi-Wan for me." 

The first few times they'd connected had been accidents, both of them absorbed with their own lives, but Obi-Wan had seemed to will his own appearance at the pond and just now. Maybe Qui-Gon could do the same? He stood in the middle of the room, falling easily in a light meditative trance, thinking only of Obi-Wan. The youth he'd initially rejected, then had taken on as a padawan after Obi-Wan had been willing to die to save Qui-Gon's life on Bandomeer. The young man he'd grown into over their years, who had spent almost every day at Qui-Gon's side. Intelligent, dedicated, brave, with a quietly impish sense of humor, and oh so handsome. So incredibly handsome. And then Obi-Wan was there, facing away from him. "Obi-Wan." 

"Qui-Gon." Obi-Wan turned, his hips canted slightly back, resting on something as he faced Qui-Gon, one hand landing on it too. "You followed me." 

"It only took some concentration." He stepped forward, placing his hand close to Obi-Wan's on the object. It was long and round, not a table. "Where are we?" 

"On a balcony in the palace. We're taking a break in negotiations. I'll need to return soon." 

The railing, of course. Obi-Wan was being cool, and Qui-Gon regretted the inadvertent hurt he had caused. "I think you have misunderstood me, Obi-Wan." 

"You made it quite plain, Qui-Gon. You do not want to be life bonded to me. I'm sorry if that is indeed what I caused by saving your life, but I will not feel regret for my actions. You are too valuable to the Jedi to lose." 

To the Jedi, of course. Obi-Wan would always think of the greater good. "I do not want to be life bonded to you, Obi-Wan, because of what it would do to you. How it might endanger or shorten your life."

"And it might save it too, Qui-Gon. You would be able to share energy with me if I need it." 

Qui-Gon would gratefully give his energy to Obi-Wan without concern for his own life or health. The two of them had saved each other's lives multiple times over the years, and to be able to continue their partnership… but no. "It might change the course of your career too. Anakin thought we would have to stay around each other. You wouldn't be able to forge your own path as a knight."

"Clearly we can be separated. We have been for six months now. Perhaps we should meet up more often, but that could be managed." 

"Life bonds often imply—more." The tales around life bonds were various and contradictory, but a consistent thread was that the mates were emotionally and sexually bound together for the rest of their lives. Qui-Gon couldn't imagine anything better, but Obi-Wan—Obi-Wan deserved so much more. He deserved a choice. 

"There's no point in having a lot of discussion about something that we aren't even sure has happened. I need to return to the negotiations. Do let me know how things go on Tatooine." With that, Obi-Wan stalked away, the swirl of his cloak the last thing Qui-Gon saw before he was back on Yoda's ship.

Qui-Gon hated that his attitude hurt Obi-Wan, but the younger man did have a point, they first needed to know what happened before they figured out how to deal with it. With a sigh, he accepted that it was time to talk to the healers. Or maybe he should talk to the librarian and ask her to research life bonds? Yes, maybe that would be the best action. 

~~ 

The life of a Jedi was hard. Qui-Gon has grown up accepting this fact, and had always believed that the good work they did was worth the sacrifices. 

Still, he always appreciated the more pleasant planets. Tatooine was hot and miserable, with sand everywhere, exactly as it had been last time. At least they had parked at the space port, so they had a shorter walk. Anakin had absolutely bounced in his seat at his first time landing a ship as large as Yoda's. 

Qui-Gon donned the poncho he’d worn before, and had found a similar one for Anakin, so they would look less official. Jedi were occasionally regarded with suspicion on backwater planets, where residents might see them as representatives of a potentially hostile government. 

Anakin continued bouncing as they walked through the small town of Mos Espa to Watto’s shop. Qui-Gon was pleased by his happiness, even if he hoped it didn't end with disappointment. Could they free Shmi? How? He was glad that he hadn't promised Anakin that they would, only said that they were going to visit her. 

"Qui-Gon." 

Anakin ran into Watto's shop, but Qui-Gon turned to see Obi-Wan standing in the middle of the dirt street. "Obi-Wan. I wanted—"

"I've talked to Queen Amidala. She's transferring credits to your personal account. It should be enough to buy Shmi. Yes, I know," Obi-Wan continued, raising one hand to forestall any objection Qui-Gon might make, "the Jedi don't buy slaves. But Amidala is willing to. Buy Shmi and bring her to Naboo. Amidala is sending her request to the Council for their approval and permission for you to detour here." 

The gratitude Qui-Gon felt was immense. He had trusted the Force, in the belief that some way would appear, and it had, in the form of an obviously still irritated Obi-Wan. "Thank you, Obi-Wan. We—" 

"Yes, we need to talk. I'll contact you when you're back in space." 

Then Obi-Wan was gone, but at least he hadn't told Qui-Gon to wait until he reached Naboo. Qui-Gon thought about seeing if he could follow him, but several bystanders were giving him curious stares, reminding him that he was standing in a busy street, talking to himself. Making Obi-Wan understand would have to wait.

Entering Watto's shop, he found Anakin and Shmi hugging, Watto fluttering around them. "Trick me this time, you will not!" Watto declared, shoving his face into Qui-Gon's. 

The intensity with which mother and son hugged each other, their obvious happiness… Qui-Gon felt a strange peaceful calm. Taking Anakin from his mother had been a mistake that could have left the boy easy prey for the dark. They needed to be reunited. "I'm here to buy Shmi Skywalker from you." 

Watto's wings fluttered with an angry energy. "I know you Jedi. You don't buy slaves." 

"I'm here representing a private party." 

Watto snorted, looking suspicious. "So you need this slave? There are lots of slaves on Tatooine. She's trained for my work."

Shmi and Anakin were facing him and Watto, watching the exchange, Shmi still on her knees, arms around her son, her expression hopeful. "Perhaps we could step outside."

"Why?" Watto snorted again, this time with disdain. "You think it's rude to talk about a slave's worth in front of her? You took the boy and left her. You valued him. Why do you want her now?" 

He wanted her to make sure that Anakin stayed on the true path as a Jedi. To do what he could to change the future he saw in his nightmares. Qui-Gon felt a wash of shame sweep over him. Shmi Skywalker was an intelligent, loving, compassionate woman, and even in this, he was putting Anakin's needs over hers, not really even thinking about her and how her life would change. For the better, he hoped, but people who had lived in slavery their whole lives sometimes had a tough adjustment to independence. His thoughts had only been on Anakin, his struggles at the Temple, and his destiny. 

But Qui-Gon was a skilled negotiator with decades of experience, and ruthless at shoving down his own emotions. As long as Watto agreed to the sale, that was all that mattered in this moment. Qui-Gon took a moment to study Watto, to think about the kind of being he was, and then looked at his padd, checking to see the amount that had been transferred from Naboo. "I will offer you a hundred standard credits here and now, we walk out with Shmi and whatever personal possessions she might wish to take. No conversation. No negotiation."

The amount should be more than sufficient by Tatooine standards and was likely overpaying for a single slave in her middle years. Perhaps starting low and haggling would have been best, but Qui-Gon's patience was at its limit, and he didn't want to subject the Skywalkers to negotiations.

He could tell that Watto was stunned, flying backwards slightly. "You think you can just flash—"

"I said, no conversation, no negotiation. Anakin, give your mother another hug. We're leaving."

"Wait!" Watto reached out, grabbing at Qui-Gon, who took a step away from him, avoiding his touch. "We can talk—"

"Hug, Anakin. We're leaving."

"I agree, I agree!"

"Shmi, please gather your clothes while Watto makes out the bill of sale. I'll transfer the credits as soon as that's drafted."

"You drive a hard bargain, Jedi," Watto said, shaking his fist at Qui-Gon.

His face completely impassive, Qui-Gon only prompted, "The bill of sale?"

Muttering direly under his breath, Watto flew to the back of his shop, beginning to fuss with the necessary paperwork. 

"Anakin, please help your mother. We're leaving as soon as she's ready." 

"Yippee!" Anakin yelled, grabbing his mother's hand and pulling her out of the shop. 

~~~

"Thank you, so much, Master Qui-Gon," Shmi said, as the three entered Yoda's ship. She carried a small bag of her few belongings, still looking a little dazed by the suddenness of her liberation. "I don't know how to repay you." 

"Your savior is Princess Amidala of Naboo. I was only her intermediary." 

"A Princess? A Princess bought me?" 

Even Anakin looked surprised, though delighted. "Padme? Padme helped mom? Why would she do that?" 

"Anakin." Qui-Gon knelt, placing his hand on his padawan's shoulder. "Because it was the decent thing to do, and Padme is a caring individual. And because you helped save her planet. The Jedi do not take rewards for our actions, but it will be offered many times."

Anakin's delight changed to confusion. "Does that mean I shouldn't have let her buy mom?" 

Qui-Gon restrained his wince. He shouldn't have thrown in that warning, but it was a common reminder for young padawans. Training Anakin was so different from Obi-Wan or his other padawans. None of them had had Anakin's background, and they hadn't leaped to the kinds of interpretations that Anakin did. "No, no of course not. As a Jedi, you will have to learn to say no to such offers, but this is a favor to your mother, not you. And because Padme is a caring individual." 

"Padme is wizard," Anakin agreed. 

"I am grateful to her. You will take me to her?" Shmi asked. 

"Yes, Naboo is our next stop."

"She'll free you, mom. She won't keep you a slave." 

Anakin's tone was confident, but Shmi's eyes held uncertainty, and Qui-Gon wondered how many times she had been sold to different owners. How many times Anakin had been sold. 

"I'm sure she is a wonderful woman. I hope Naboo is less hot than Tatooine." 

"It is, mom. It's a wonderful planet. It's so beautiful, just like Padme. They have a great fleet too!"

Shmi laughed gently at her son's obvious love for ships. 

"Anakin, can you set course and take us to Naboo? I'll take the single room. I need to try to reach Obi-Wan." Shmi was likely to learn that he and Obi-Wan were communicating over the Force, but he didn't want to talk about it with her yet. 

"Of course, Master Qui-Gon. Come on, mom," Anakin said, grabbing his mother's hand again, "let me show you the cockpit and how to set a course." 

Qui-Gon blessed Anakin's obsession, confident that he could leave the two alone to visit, and headed to the single room, taking a few minutes to remove the poncho and wash the Tatooine dust from his hands and face. Then he focused, clearing his mind, thinking only of Obi-Wan as he last saw him. And there he was again, clearly sitting at a negotiating table, listening intently to someone on the left side of the room. Qui-Gon walked into his view. Obi-Wan looked at him, letting their eyes connect, and gave one tiny shake of his head. 

He would have liked to have stayed, to see how Obi-Wan was faring as a negotiator, even if he could only hear Obi-Wan's responses. Probably better than Qui-Gon himself, considering how generously he'd 'bargained' with Watto. Obi-Wan was as much of a Jedi as Qui-Gon, dedicated to doing his best. He didn't need his attention distracted. "I'm back on the ship with Anakin and Shmi. Come see me when you can. We're heading to Naboo."

Obi-Wan blinked once and gave a tight nod, as Qui-Gon let himself refocus back to the ship. Next time they would talk. Next time Qui-Gon would convince Obi-Wan… of what? That Qui-Gon desperately wanted the life bond, that he couldn't imagine a better future with Obi-Wan at his side, he only feared that Obi-Wan would suffer for it? 

Qui-Gon decided to spend some time visiting with Shmi and Anakin, and away from his own thoughts. 

~~~

"Master." 

Obi-Wan's return had come much later than Qui-Gon had hoped. He'd retired for the night, but removed only his boots, and laid on the bed to rest, reading a novel to keep himself distracted. At the sound of Obi-Wan's voice, he swung his legs off the bed, sitting on the edge. Surprisingly, Obi-Wan was only wearing his pants, his tunics and boots both gone. His chest was bare, and Qui-Gon told himself he was grateful for the opportunity to see that he had no fresh scars. He was not excited to see Obi-Wan’s attractive chest, not at all. Obi-Wan was holding a snifter filled with an amber-colored liquid. "Obi-Wan, you can call me Qui-Gon now." 

"Yes, Master. Qui-Gon." Obi-Wan waved the snifter slightly. "It will be a hard habit to break."

"Are you drunk?" 

"The Queen holds a dinner for all the negotiators every evening." Obi-Wan grimaced. "That's why I was so late returning. But no, I'm not drunk. I'm always very careful." He took a sip of his drink. "I thought we could have a test." 

"A test?" 

Obi-Wan sauntered toward him, his hips moving in a smooth glide, and Qui-Gon had to swallow. He'd shut down such thoughts ruthlessly as Obi-Wan had matured into a beautiful young man. His padawan deserved his respect, not his lechery. Keeping that distance was difficult with Obi-Wan looking so tempting, and knowing they were no longer bound to their previous relationship. They were fellow knights now. 

"Stand up." 

Qui-Gon stood, helpless to resist as Obi-Wan took his hand, brought it to the glass, and guided the glass to his lips. A small swallow of an excellent and undoubtedly expensive but unfamiliar alcohol was enough to prove Obi-Wan's test successful. They could touch and interact. Could Qui-Gon keep the glass when Obi-Wan left? This bond could be incredibly useful. "You have excellent taste, Obi-Wan." 

"A gift from Chancellor Palpatine." 

Qui-Gon winced. "I've already lectured Anakin today on not accepting gifts. It was ill-timed. He thought it meant we shouldn't have let Amidala buy Shmi." 

"And normally, I wouldn't have let Palpatine give me this bottle, but…" Obi-Wan shrugged his shoulders. "Amidala was thrilled that you were bringing Shmi here. She feels guilty that she didn't think of it before. It seemed discourteous to refuse his gesture, especially as he took efforts to make it privately. It's for both of us, to thank us for helping Anakin. He's very fond of the boy."

Everything came back to Anakin, but this time Qui-Gon shared Obi-Wan's earlier sentiment. "We need to talk about us, Obi-Wan." 

"Yes." 

"We are clearly bonded in some way. It is likely to be unbreakable." 

"Do you hate it quite so much, Qui-Gon?" 

Did Obi-Wan's tone hold sadness? "It's not a matter of how I feel about it, it's a matter—" 

But Obi-Wan slipped into his arms, pressing their lips together, sharing a soft kiss with him. Obi-Wan's lips were gentle and warm, his mouth tasting of the alcohol. "It's a matter of how we both feel, Qui-Gon. And I want this." 

"You're so young—" 

"Qui-Gon." Obi-Wan kept his forearm resting on Qui-Gon's shoulder, the hand with the snifter by his head, but with his free hand, took Qui-Gon's hand and brought it to his chest, flattening his palm against Obi-Wan's skin. "Do you want me? Do you want to be bound to me?" 

Qui-Gon groaned, his fingers splaying out almost against his will, wanting to touch as much of Obi-Wan's skin as he could. His padawan was beautiful, in body and in soul. At this moment, his body seemed like the most important element. Qui-Gon could shift his middle finger slightly and rub against Obi-Wan's nipple— "It would not have been permitted." 

"But it can be now. Did you think of it before? Because I've thought of you." 

"You have?" Did his own voice really sound that needy, that desperate? 

"I have." Obi-Wan pressed himself close again, whispering in Qui-Gon's ear, "I've masturbated to thoughts of you, Master. Of submitting to you, being possessed by you. So many years now."

Qui-Gon's groan was anguished, desperate, and then he couldn't stop himself, one hand squeezing Obi-Wan's butt, lifting him to cradle their bodies together, as his lips claimed Obi-Wan's, giving him the kind of kiss he'd rarely even dared to dream about. Needy, demanding, possessive, hungry. Obi-Wan responded as passionately as Qui-Gon could have hoped, his free hand buried in Qui-Gon's hair, his mouth greedy, sucking on Qui-Gon's tongue as one leg twined around Qui-Gon's hips. 

"Force." Qui-Gon separated their mouths, buried his head in Obi-Wan's shoulder, breathing hard. "We shouldn't try to do this now." 

Obi-Wan's low laugh was rueful in Qui-Gon's ear. "Considering how little we understand this bond, we might not want to test it…so fervently." 

"Yes. Slowly." He raised his head, staring into Obi-Wan's beautiful eyes, so gorgeous in their ever-changing colors of blue, green, and gray, so full of love. Obi-Wan's love for him. He relaxed his grip, letting Obi-Wan's feet return to the floor. "You make me very happy, Obi-Wan."

"So you have thought of me as often as I've thought of you." 

"And as ardently. Obi-Wan—" His hands clenched on Obi-Wan's slim torso. "I have had the most improper thoughts."

From his flashing smile, that revelation delighted Obi-Wan. "I want to hear them all, Qui-Gon. If we're going to be together for the rest of our lives—Qui-Gon, don't. I can see that thought starting. This has to be willed by the Force, which means it is meant to be, and will be the best for our lives and our destinies. I believe in us as much as you believe in Anakin." 

"If it ever comes to it—" 

"I know," Obi-Wan soothed. "I know, if it ever comes to it, you would give your life for me. But I want us both to do our best to live for each other, long, happy, and productive lives." 

"I share that pledge with you, my Obi-Wan." 

"Good. My Qui-Gon." Finally, he backed away a few steps. "We're in the single cabin on Yoda's ship?" At Qui-Gon's nod, he took a few steps to one side, groping to find the nightstand table, putting the snifter down on it. "Our first test, will this remain?" 

"If it does, I shall drink it in celebration." 

"I shall see you tomorrow in Naboo." With that, Obi-Wan stepped back again and disappeared. Qui-Gon collapsed, sitting on the bed before reaching out to pick up the snifter, which still held the warmth of Obi-Wan's hand. He raised it and drank, the beverage less intoxicating than the taste of Obi-Wan's lips.


	3. Naboo

"Padme!" Anakin yelled, rushing toward the Queen. He hesitated at the last minute, but she smiled and swept him into an embrace, not caring that her elaborate clothes were being crinkled. Amidala was in full regalia, a vision in shades of blue with gold touches. Her handmaidens flanked her, clad in maroon. 

"Ani, it is so good to see you. And to meet your mother." Amidala didn’t hug Shmi, but gave her a brief squeeze with her hands on her upper arms, smiling widely. Shmi tried to drop into a curtsy, but Amidala held her in place. "Naboo owes so much to your son. Your citizenship papers are being drawn up, and I’ll cancel your bill of sale immediately. I am delighted that you are here now. You are welcome to stay, if you want, but you are free to follow Ani to Coruscant, if you prefer. Either way, you will have standing in the Republic as a citizen of Naboo."

Shmi looked close to tears. "Your Highness, I am overwhelmed."

"There will be a stipend, of course, customary to what we would award the family of a fallen hero." Her dimple flashed at Ani. "Thankfully, your son is fine, but he risked his life for a planet that wasn’t even his own, and that seemed the most appropriate measure." 

Anakin looked hesitantly at Qui-Gon. "The Jedi don’t—"

"You weren’t a Jedi, Anakin. Not then. This is a most appropriate gesture for your service." Qui-Gon appreciated Amidala’s tact and helping to set Shmi up for a comfortable life.

"But you also have paid for me," Shmi protested. "Surely that is enough. I can work—"

Qui-Gon cut her off. "I believe it is wise if no decisions are made now. Shmi, you should spend some time talking with your son and thinking about your future. I also need to talk to Obi-Wan about his plans. We may wait until he has finished here so he can return to Coruscant with us."

"And we should return to the negotiating table. One of my handmaidens will escort you to the palace. Rooms have been arranged for you, and a change of clothes for Madam Skywalker, for a banquet tonight. I hope that you will feel up to joining us after your travels."

Shmi’s soft, "Thank you, Your Highness," was echoed by Anakin’s energetic, "Thank you, Padme!" The Queen and most of her handmaidens began to walk out of the hangar, one of them separating from the group to approach the Skywalkers. Obi-Wan had been almost hidden behind Amidala's entourage, except that Qui-Gon had eyes for no one but him. 

"I need to follow Amidala and return to the table with her," Obi-Wan said apologetically. They both understood their responsibilities, though Qui-Gon wished there was some way to whisk Obi-Wan away with him. 

"I will walk with you." Their hands swung by their sides, knuckles brushing against each other as they followed the rest. "I am so glad to see you, Obi-Wan," he said, keeping his voice low. Merely being in Obi-Wan's presence made him feel energized in a way that he hadn't felt since before he'd been released from the bacta. The feeling was heady, making him want to grab Obi-Wan and dance him around the cavernous hangar. Perhaps Anakin was right; perhaps they did need to stay close. Qui-Gon wouldn't mind. 

"And I am delighted to see you, Qui-Gon. I’m only sorry that there is another banquet tonight. Amidala has promised that it will be shorter."

"You have seemed very close to her." Qui-Gon felt an unwanted flash of jealousy. They stopped in the doorway of the hangar where the horned devil had confronted them, revealing his double bladed lightsaber, and Qui-Gon felt a chill. They still knew little about their attacker, where he had appeared from, and whether there were more Sith. Did he dare risk imagining a happy future with Obi-Wan until that mystery was resolved? 

"Qui-Gon," was all Obi-Wan said, but it was enough to make Qui-Gon’s cheeks flush with embarrassment. Why did he doubt Obi-Wan's declaration of love? As long as they were together, why did he worry that they couldn't handle any threat? 

"You will forgive an old man his occasional ridiculousness."

Obi-Wan purred. "I can think of ways that you can make it up to me. Tonight. I told Amidala that you would share my bedroom, I hope that is agreeable."

The thought that Obi-Wan had spoken to Amidala so blatantly—"Very."

"Master Obi-Wan!" Amidala’s voice called. "We’re wanted back."

"On my way!" Obi-Wan yelled. "Tonight," he said to Qui-Gon fervently, his eyes burning with promise. "Tonight, after the banquet."

"Tonight," Qui-Gon agreed. Tonight would be theirs, the first hopefully of their decades together as bonded Jedi. 

~~~

"Told me this before, you should have."

"Yes, Master," Qui-Gon said obediently. Yoda was not happy with Qui-Gon’s full confession about what he had been feeling and the bond that he and Obi-Wan shared, but disappointing Yoda was unfortunately not a completely new experience. 

"Thought I sensed something at the pond."

"It did seem like you felt something."

"Research we shall. Continue to report you must."

"Yes, Master. I had sent a message to Madame Jocasta, asking her to find information on bonds for me, but I had not explained our current situation." Both he and Obi-Wan were likely to undergo full evaluations when they returned to the Temple. Qui-Gon loathed the healers prodding at him, but he would do whatever was necessary to ensure this bond would be the best thing for Obi-Wan. Despite how right it felt, being with Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon still had doubts. "I shall give you all the details of what develops between Obi-Wan and me." 

"May the Force be with you, my Padawan," Yoda said, and cut the link.

"I hope not all the details, Master," Obi-Wan said, and Qui-Gon whirled to see the other Jedi had entered the bedroom. Their bedroom, for tonight, and hopefully until the negotiations were over. For the first time, Qui-Gon thought he wouldn’t mind if talks bogged down on trivialities and lasted for ages. "I hope there are many details that Yoda wouldn’t actually want to know." 

"Obi-Wan, you’re done for the day?" Qui-Gon strode over to his former padawan, resting his hands on Obi-Wan’s slim waist. The weight loss was more noticeable with touch, the layered Jedi tunics helping to disguise his new thinness. 

"It went well, even though my mind was occasionally elsewhere. Up here, with you." Obi-Wan leaned into Qui-Gon, taking the liberty of sliding his arms around his waist, deepening the embrace.

"Obi-Wan." They kissed, passionately but slowly. They were together and had time, to explore, to learn. 

"The banquet is soon."

Soon. They would have time soon. Just one meal, Qui-Gon reassured himself. "Do you need to freshen up?"

"Yes." Obi-Wan stepped back, pushing on Qui-Gon’s chest. "And you should leave, or we’ll be late. Because once I get started, I do not intend to stop."

Obi-Wan's eager anticipation for their night together was fully matched by Qui-Gon. "Tonight."

"Tonight. Now go."

~~~

The banquet was fairly abbreviated for such affairs, but still too long in Qui-Gon’s opinion. He was pleased to see Shmi in a simple but elegant gown, Anakin in his best Jedi uniform. They were seated together, at a place of honor not too far from the Queen. They were apparently engaged in catching up, but Qui-Gon was pleased to note that Anakin did seem to be talking to the others around him, as a Jedi padawan should. 

He and Obi-Wan were separated, which Qui-Gon found unsurprising even if painful. He yearned to be with Obi-Wan, not making polite conversation with mostly strangers. Still, Jedi training kicked in, and he did his best to keep conversation flowing while trying to get a feel for how negotiations were going. Maybe he could learn something that would help Obi-Wan. After the Trade Federation's attack, Queen Amidala's desire to form a regional alliance of planets to deal with trade issues was not surprising. Unity was always useful when negotiating with the Federation, but a complicated agreement to negotiate. Even among members of the Republic, every representative was mostly concerned with their world’s own financial security, and often failed to see the benefits of cooperation. 

Chancellor Palpatine was seated diagonally across from him, the only familiar face among the attendees. "You seem very...interested in your former padawan, Master Jedi," he said, smiling genially, making Qui-Gon realize that his eyes kept straying to Obi-Wan. 

"I'm very pleased to see that he is doing well as a mediator. Obi-Wan is a credit to the Jedi." 

"He is!" the being next to him exclaimed. "He's so good at keeping us on track. So patient, and so smart. And so handsome."

And mine, not yours, Qui-Gon thought, well aware that many diplomats fetishized the Jedi. Offers of dalliances were not uncommon, but if he and Obi-Wan were bound together… neither of them would ever have another partner. Qui-Gon hoped that Obi-Wan wanted that commitment as much as he did. 

"I see he still has the braid. Will you do the ceremony while you're here?" the Chancellor asked. 

That… was interesting. Few non-Jedi understood the significance of the padawan braid, that strands of Qui-Gon's hair were woven in with the braid, that the master would sever the braid as a symbolic gesture, affirming that the padawan was a full knight. Why was Palpatine even here? Though he was from Naboo, as Chancellor, he should have more important concerns than regional negotiations. Qui-Gon made a mental note to ask Obi-Wan about the Chancellor's role. "Yes, I expect we will," he answered truthfully. There was little point in hiding, since the braid would be gone in the morning.

"I hope that Obi-Wan takes a padawan of his own soon. He deserves to be a full master, and not only a knight. I expect he will have a stunning career as a Jedi." 

"Yes, I expect he will," Qui-Gon agreed, disturbed at the Chancellor's effusive sentiment, his own worries resurfacing. Would Obi-Wan have a stunning career? If they were bonded, Obi-Wan might always be seen as Qui-Gon's sidekick. Qui-Gon was aware enough of his flaws that he knew he would have difficulty relinquishing the lead role, no matter how much he respected Obi-Wan's abilities.

"It's quite splendid that you were able to take the time to rescue Anakin's mother. He seems a very bright boy, with a great future as a Jedi ahead of him." 

"I agree," Qui-Gon said, suddenly deciding that he wasn't fond of Palpatine. Such enthusiasm should be welcome, but somehow it was grating. "Excuse me," he said, rising from the table. "I fear I am tired from the journey. I will retire early." 

"Of course, Master Jedi." 

Qui-Gon slipped out as dessert was being served, hoping that Amidala would forgive him, but too restless to continue sitting and chatting, especially with Palpatine. Normally he wouldn’t leave a padawan as young as Anakin at a banquet by himself, but he trusted that Anakin would be fine with his mother. 

Up in the room, he freshened up, his doubts returning. Was he doing the right thing by Obi-Wan? Should they wait to make love until they understood the nature of their bond? Until Obi-Wan truly had time to consider its impact on him? 

His mind raging, Qui-Gon decided against undressing, but did remove his boots and socks for comfort. He appreciated the plushness of the rug under his feet before wandering onto the balcony. Naboo was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful planets in the Republic. Though it was dark, the moonlight cast a soft glow and the lights scattered throughout the city sparkled. 

The door opened, and Obi-Wan said, "Qui-Gon?"

"Here."

Barely a second passed, and Obi-Wan was in his arms, and they were kissing before Qui-Gon could suggest talking. He marveled at how well their bodies fit together. Obi-Wan seemed designed perfectly for his embrace. Was their love, this bond between them, truly willed by the Force? 

"You’re thinking too much," Obi-Wan said, leaning back in Qui-Gon’s arms.

"We should talk," Qui-Gon said reluctantly. 

"I love you, you love me, we seem to be bound together, we will undoubtedly have a very long discussion with the Council which you will find irritating, the healers will be annoyingly invasive, and then they will have to post us together, or let us meet regularly. I will help train Anakin, and that will undoubtedly lead into another very long discussion with the Council on whether I will be able to train my own padawan, which you will help me win, because I do want to. And we will live long and happy lives in the service of the Jedi. Together. Does that cover everything?"

Obi-Wan’s occasional flippancy that broke through his normally restrained manner was usually charming, but tonight Qui-Gon found it aggravating. 

"Even Yoda doesn’t know what’s happened to us. We need to talk about this."

"Or did you want a different kind of discussion, Master? My Master?" Obi-Wan pressed his body to Qui-Gon’s again, his lips brushing Qui-Gon’s beard as he spoke. "I told you, I’ve masturbated to thoughts of you. So many times, Qui-Gon. Some mornings I’ve been almost embarrassed to look in your eyes, feeling that I shouldn’t want you. You are so handsome, so strong, so intelligent and wise." 

A soft groan escaped Qui-Gon’s lips and he found himself hardening at Obi-Wan’s honesty. 

"I want to be claimed by you, Qui-Gon. I want you to know every inch of my body. I’ve had lovers, but only casually. I’ve read about so many things that I’ve never tried with anyone, but I want to try them with you. I want to try everything with you." 

Qui-Gon didn’t know what was worst, the sudden flare of jealousy at the thought of Obi-Wan with his lovers, or the erotic rush of images in his mind, wondering exactly what Obi-Wan wanted to explore with him. 

"But perhaps I’ve assumed too much." Obi-Wan backed away, and Qui-Gon immediately missed the feel of him in his arms. "You said you had improper thoughts about me, you said we would be together tonight, but you keep retreating. Do you really want me, Master? Do you want to share your life with me? Maybe I’ve only been a passing fancy for you, an idle indulgence."

The hurt on Obi-Wan’s face was palpable. Qui-Gon couldn’t stand to see it, realizing how much his hesitation at Obi-Wan’s youth had made him waffle and appear to reject Obi-Wan. He pushed Obi-Wan against the wall, forcefully lifting him up by the backs of his thighs, wrapping his legs around Qui-Gon’s waist. With his hands buried in Obi-Wan’s hair, he held his head in place and ravished his mouth. Obi-Wan had said he wanted to be claimed, and Qui-Gon staked that claim with his lips and tongue, rubbing his hardened groin against Obi-Wan’s, letting him feel the full extent of Qui-Gon’s readiness for him. 

"I’m decades older than you, Obi-Wan," he growled in Obi-Wan’s ear. "I’ve had lovers, and they haven’t all been casual. But none of them have ever meant as much to me as you do. I have never loved any of them as I love you.

"I’m going to take you to bed, and you’re going to be mine for the rest of our lives. You will never know another lover. I’m going to show you all those improper thoughts I’ve had about you. And act them out."

Obi-Wan whimpered, a high sound that Qui-Gon’s most primal side found pleasing. 

"Is that what you want, Obi-Wan? For me to claim you tonight and forever? This is your last chance." Obi-Wan should tell him no. They should have a long conversation and then sleep in separate rooms. 

"Qui-Gon—" Obi-Wan ground out, "You're the only one who thinks I need a chance to say no." 

Qui-Gon pushed Obi-Wan away, eliciting another one of those delightful whimpers. Obi-Wan wouldn't say no. Obi-Wan wanted them to be together. Who was Qui-Gon to keep fighting the will of both the Force and Obi-Wan? "Take your clothes off. Let me see you, all of you." 

For a second, Qui-Gon wondered if Obi-Wan even understood the instruction, as he stood there, looking dazed. Then his face cleared, becoming soft and relaxed. "Yes, Master," he said, politely as ever, his hands dropping to his belt. He took his time, methodically removing his clothes one piece at time, letting them drop to the floor. His belt, which left his tunics free to swish around his torso as he took off one boot then the other. His socks next, and unaware that he copied Qui-Gon's actions earlier, he wiggled his toes into the plush rug. The tunics were shrugged off his shoulders as one, leaving him bare-chested, before his trousers and undergarments were pushed down his legs. He stepped forward, away from the pile of fabric, his cock rising, as if seeking Qui-Gon's gaze. 

His padawan was beautiful, his body molded by years of hard training, his love open and honest in his eyes, facing Qui-Gon and awaiting his judgment without hesitation. 

"I love you, Obi-Wan. You are—everything I've ever wanted." 

"I love you, Qui-Gon. And I'd rather like to see you too," he added, smiling but intent. 

Qui-Gon copied Obi-Wan's actions, revealing himself unashamedly, preening a bit at the appreciation in his soon-to-be lover's eyes, the way his look lingered with admiration on Qui-Gon's cock, erect and already wet for him. Stepping forward, he cupped Obi-Wan's chin with one hand, bringing their lips together in a long, slow kiss as their bodies met, this time, for the first time, without any clothing in the way. 

Their lovemaking remained slow, measured, Qui-Gon content to explore Obi-Wan's body in every way. They would have decades together, and would undoubtedly be frantic and fast many times in the future. Qui-Gon wanted to sear this time in Obi-Wan's memory, how it felt when Qui-Gon kissed him, licked him, nipped him gently in sensitive spots. 

Obi-Wan tried to return the favor, but Qui-Gon caught his wrists together, pulling them over his head. "Keep them there," he ordered. Obi-Wan gave that very satisfying whimper again but obeyed. Tomorrow night he'd let Obi-Wan explore. He wanted to know Obi-Wan's touch on every piece of his flesh, but now he didn't want to be distracted from learning Obi-Wan's body, from introducing Obi-Wan to how Qui-Gon could pleasure him. 

"You've had this?" he asked, his fingers circling Obi-Wan's opening, slicked with the oil he'd been fortunate to remember. 

"A few times." 

Qui-Gon could only grunt in acknowledgement, not wanting to know anything about who may have loved Obi-Wan first. He would be grateful, knowing that his size could be a problem for someone inexperienced. He stretched him patiently, until Obi-Wan was sensually writhing on his fingers, moaning incoherent pleas. 

"Shhh…" Qui-Gon soothed him, raising one of his legs, placing it on Qui-Gon's shoulder, thrusting steadily, feeling the pressure of Obi-Wan's warmth close around his length. He kept his eyes sharp on Obi-Wan's face, searching for any hint of discomfort. There was none, only a hungry need until Qui-Gon was seated fully within him, and then an overwhelming satisfaction and bliss settled in his expression. 

"I knew you'd feel this good. I'm so full." 

"Soon, I want to know how you feel in me." 

Obi-Wan's face showed happiness and surprise. "You'll let me?"

"Everything, Obi-Wan. You said you wanted everything. I do too," Qui-Gon answered, and then neither of them could talk, while Qui-Gon claimed Obi-Wan's body, long and hard, enjoying every gasp and moan he wrung from Obi-Wan. Their bodies rocked together, as in tune with each other as they were in katas or battle. Qui-Gon almost felt that their minds were touching, that he was experiencing Obi-Wan's physical ecstasy as well as his own. Perhaps this was a benefit of the bond, a connection that would grow with time and their loving, but Qui-Gon's mind was too aflame with white hot sensation to analyze. Obi-Wan flung his head back, yelling in pleasure as his muscles tightened on Qui-Gon's cock, his seed spilling between their bodies. The satisfaction of seeing Obi-Wan come apart in his arms triggered Qui-Gon's orgasm, which raced through every nerve in his body, as he shuddered, pumping his come into Obi-Wan before collapsing on his body, kissing him deeply. 

They were bound and committed now. 

~~~

The dreams disturbed his sleep again, the horrifying figures, black and red and silver, red lightsabers mercilessly killing innocents, and Qui-Gon woke with a startled gasp, swinging his legs to sit on the side of the bed. Why here, why now? Why did the dreams still haunt him, when he had been sleeping so peacefully with Obi-Wan?

Obi-Wan sat up behind him. His arms came around him in a hug, his head resting against the top of Qui-Gon's spine. "The dreams again?" 

It was close to dawn, Qui-Gon guessed, well aware of how his body felt after several hours of sleep. "I had thought nothing could disturb me, sleeping in your arms," Qui-Gon admitted. 

"You've talked to the healers?"

"To Yoda. He's going to talk to the healers about the dreams, about us." 

"I wonder if the Jedi will ever realize what's happened to you," a voice said. "They've always been a bit slow." 

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were instantly up, standing at the edge of the bed, hands reaching out as lightsabers flew to their hands and ignited. The soft glow of blue and green revealed a dark figure standing near the door. 

The voice was familiar, and somehow Qui-Gon wasn't surprised when the man's hands reached up, pushing back the hood of his cloak, revealing Chancellor Palpatine. Obi-Wan gave a shocked gasp. 

"You're the Sith," Qui-Gon said, grateful that they had taken the time to clean up and put on sleep pants before curling up together. 

"Yes. No wonder you couldn't get a good sleep, even after having fucked the luscious Obi-Wan. I rather wish I'd had time to try him myself." 

"Never," Qui-Gon vowed, only his years of experience keeping him from wildly attacking Palpatine. This was the figure he'd seen in his dreams, the one who could shoot lightning from his fingertips. The Sith master, who had trained the horned demon who had tried to kill Qui-Gon. Somehow, this man would be responsible for creating the other two Sith who had been haunting Qui-Gon's dreams. This deadly predator wouldn't have revealed himself unless he intended to kill both of them. 

Beside him, Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan flinch at the insult, but he stayed in place, resolute and calm. Obi-Wan would always follow his master's lead. "What are the Jedi slow about?"

"The two of you aren't just life bonded. You are a dyad in the Force, a perfect combination of two powerful Force-sensitive individuals. The nascent bond was probably there since you first met, but Obi-Wan forced its creation when he saved your life. Half of a dyad under their noses and those fools at the Temple didn't even notice. The Jedi deserve to be destroyed, that the Sith might rise again. We shall be the masters of the universe." 

With that, lightning flew from his fingertips, but Qui-Gon's dreams had helped prepare him, and he caught the streaks on his lightsaber blade. Obi-Wan took the opportunity to attack, lunging forward at Palpatine, but the man moved equally as quickly to one side. His hands separated so that each one shot lightning at their lightsabers, keeping Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan at bay. 

They advanced, lightsabers raised, the lightning crackling, an oppressive force against their blades. The pressure was immense, trying to push them back, and Qui-Gon was grateful that he and Obi-Wan were such a unified team. Either one of them would likely already be dead by now. They got closer, Qui-Gon savoring that soon they would be in reach of striking Palpatine down, realizing with horror that he'd been letting them think they were being successful. His hands pulled back slightly, the lightning increasing, almost blinding in its intensity. Both he and Obi-Wan yelled as they were thrown back. Qui-Gon painfully hit the ground, lightsaber knocked out of his hand, not daring to risk checking on Obi-Wan, instead reaching out to call his weapon to him.

"Master?" 

Anakin's voice was the last thing Qui-Gon wanted to hear. "Anakin, run!" he yelled, leaping to his feet and running at Palpatine, determined to protect Anakin, hoping that Obi-Wan would be able to rejoin him.

Out of his peripheral vision, Qui-Gon caught sight of Anakin running away, aware that the boy still remained in danger. A witness couldn't be allowed to live. The Sith shot lightning through the doorway, but Qui-Gon couldn't hear any noise from Anakin that would have indicated he'd been hit. 

With a roar, he brought his blade down toward Palpatine's head, Obi-Wan again at his side. Palpatine trapped both blades again with his lightning. 

"Hold on, Obi-Wan!" They seemed to be at a stalemate, but this time they couldn't let Palpatine surprise them. They had to hold on until they defeated him. 

Then Anakin returned with his own lightsaber, running straight at Palpatine, blade held in front of him, and the Sith couldn't divert his attention from Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan to defend himself. He screamed as Anakin's blade pierced his abdomen. The lightning weakened, and Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan's lightsabers sliced into Palpatine, cutting him into pieces. 

As Palpatine died, his lightning exploded out of his body, flaring throughout the room. Qui-Gon threw himself toward Obi-Wan and Anakin, trying to fall on top of them to protect them. He squeezed his eyes shut, seeking the comfort of the Force, as something shattered—probably the mirror or the decorative vases in the room—and what sounded like flames started burning.

When the noise had calmed, Qui-Gon propped himself on his elbows, seeing Obi-Wan in a similar position. "Obi-Wan?" 

"I'm fine. Anakin?" 

Neither of the adults had managed to reach Anakin as they fell. The padawan was curled into a ball on the floor, and for a second, Qui-Gon's breath caught with fear. Then Anakin slowly uncurled and sat up. "I'm okay. Chancellor Palpatine—why was he attacking you?" 

"Anakin? Master Qui-Gon?" Shmi rushed into the room, falling to her knees by her son's side, hugging him. 

Queen Amidala followed. "Obi-Wan? Qui-Gon? What has happened?" She looked with horror at the body on the floor, the man who had once been a trusted advisor and likely a friend. "You've killed the Chancellor?" Several guards were close behind her, two of them slipping into the room to stand by her, as if protecting her from the Jedi. 

"The Chancellor was a Sith who attacked us." Qui-Gon stood, suddenly aware that he and Obi-Wan were only dressed in sleeping pants. 

"A Sith? But that other one who attacked you, you said he was a Sith."

"The apprentice," Obi-Wan said as he also got to his feet. "Palpatine was the master." 

"He was—evil?" Amidala seemed to be having trouble accepting the truth, and Qui-Gon didn't blame her. Palpatine had always been thoughtful, polite, even charming, but then, deception was often the trademark of the Sith. 

"Yes, I'm afraid so," Qui-Gon said gently.

Her face calmed, and she was a Queen again rather than a confused girl. "Captain, is an emergency crew on the way? The curtains are on fire." 

So they were, Qui-Gon realized. The flames seemed to be struggling, as if the curtains were made of a material that didn't burn easily, but between the fire and the broken glass, the room was hazardous. 

"Yes, your Majesty." 

"Good. I believe we should retreat to my sitting quarters and discuss this further." She left the room, her guards following. Anakin was on his feet, his mother no longer hugging him, but Shmi stood behind him, her hands curled into his shoulders. 

"I told you to run, Anakin," Qui-Gon said. The boy so easily could have been killed. 

"I couldn't leave you, Master." The expression on Anakin's face was stubborn, but there was a look in his eyes as if he might cry. 

Obi-Wan twitched by him, and Qui-Gon could tell that he wanted to say something but was restraining himself. He wouldn't interfere in Qui-Gon's training of his own padawan, just as he would expect the same courtesy when he took a padawan. 

"I know." Qui-Gon kneeled to sweep Anakin into his arms, holding him close in a firm hug. "You saved our lives, Anakin. Thank you." Had he ever hugged Obi-Wan or Xanatos? Had Yoda hugged him? The Jedi did not hug, but Anakin was used to the comfort, and Qui-Gon promised that he would be the master that Anakin needed, not the one dictated by Jedi training and rules. 

Anakin's small body relaxed in his arms, as he spoke into Qui-Gon's chest. "You would have defeated him."

"Perhaps," Obi-Wan said, as he wrapped his arms around both of them, his head resting against Qui-Gon's. "But perhaps not. Either way, you turned the tide."

~~~

The next few days were difficult, but made immeasurably better by having Obi-Wan at his side during most of the day and in bed with him every night.

Amidala's desired alliance with nearby worlds, as well as the entire Senate and the Republic, was thrown into disarray by the news that the Chancellor was an evil Sith who had been killed by three Jedi. The decision to postpone the negotiations was quick and unanimous, all planets now focused on the fight for who would become the next Chancellor. 

The Jedi Council met with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan regularly, discussing at length Palpatine's revelation of his status, what Palpatine had been, and what other plans he might have started to implement. Qui-Gon bridled at the occasional comment from a Councilor that almost sounded as if he and Obi-Wan were being blamed for the upset caused by Palpatine's downfall, but Obi-Wan was quickly learning how to use the bond between them, easing his irritation with a soothing touch from his mind. 

The Council wanted to discuss Palpatine's belief that Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were a dyad in the Force, but Yoda managed to deflect that interest, insisting it was a private concern between them and the healers. Qui-Gon appreciated his intervention, though he was sure that the Councilors did discuss it at great length between themselves. 

The Councilors agreed that Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan should explore Palpatine's large mansion on Naboo, and search for any information on him and his plans, as well as ensure that he had not left behind any traps or dangerous devices. The Queen insisted on accompanying them, though she agreed to remain outside with Anakin and several of her guards until Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had made the first search and could vouch for their safety. They collected up the various Sith texts and holocrons, knowing that the Temple librarians would delight in receiving them. 

The baby was something of a surprise. 

"From the bio-analyzer, he is a healthy young baby with a high midichlorian count," Qui-Gon told Amidala, as he held the baby gingerly. "Almost as high as Anakin's. We found him maintained by a mechanical creche. Obi-Wan and I believe he might be a clone."

"What will you do with him?" Amidala asked, holding out her arms. 

Qui-Gon hesitated, but handed him over. He and Obi-Wan had examined the child thoroughly before removing him from the creche, and he posed no danger. "We will take him to the Temple. The Council will have to say what will happen to him." 

"No matter how he was created, he was born here. He is a child of Naboo. He will remain here." 

"Your Majesty, he might be the result of a Sith experiment." 

"You said he was a healthy young baby." 

Qui-Gon considered her statement carefully, glancing at Obi-Wan to see if he had any contribution, before agreeing. "Yes, your Majesty. He is a healthy young baby and was born on Naboo. Technically, he is under your authority. But it is common for children with high midichlorian counts to be sent to the Temple, to be raised as Jedi." 

"Where all the Jedi masters will know him as the result of a Sith experiment? I realize Palpatine was evil, that he used me and the Trade Federation to become Chancellor, but I will not allow his offspring to be distrusted all his life."

"You cannot take on raising him, your Majesty. How will you explain him?" 

"The sister of one of my handmaidens recently lost a child. I know that she will be grateful to raise him as her own. Captain Panaka, please take this child back to the Palace. Try to not be observed. Wait for my return and say nothing to anyone." The Captain hesitated, and Amidala smiled at him. "I understand your hesitation to leave me, but I shall be fine with the Jedi and the rest of my guards. We will return shortly." 

"I don't think she's yet forgiven us for leaving Shmi behind," Obi-Wan whispered. 

Qui-Gon studied Amidala and Panaka as the baby was carefully transferred between them, Panaka cradling him and smiling gently down at him. Though both of them were strong-minded, he could probably stop them, use the Force to push Amidala to be willing to relinquish the baby, and for both of them to forget that she'd had a different preference. Obi-Wan seemed willing to accept Amidala's plan, but he would follow Qui-Gon's direction. Anakin and the rest of the guards were still outside Palpatine's mansion; no one else would know of Qui-Gon's action. 

Or he could alert the Jedi Council, and let them make an official request. 

Or he could accept that Amidala's concern was correct. If he returned from a mission with yet another child strong in the Force… the rumors would swirl. The baby's status would eventually be known, and some would never trust a child of a Sith. Anakin's path was already rocky.

He could acknowledge that the Jedi were flawed people, and that their principles and customs might not always be the right way. He and Obi-Wan could oversee the child's development from afar. "You will let us know how things are with the child?" 

"I will, Master Qui-Gon. He will be raised with care and love." Amidala studied Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan before continuing, "I believe that I have talked Shmi into remaining on Coruscant. She wants to work and could have a valuable place as part of the Queen's retinue. If you two could visit regularly with Anakin, I could arrange reasons for you to see the child as he grows up." 

Qui-Gon looked at Obi-Wan, seeking his input, and found himself reaching for the padawan braid, curling his fingers around it. They hadn't taken time for the ceremony that first night, and since then, had been too busy. "Obi-Wan and I are bonded now, and I expect that our lives will be somewhat different than normal for the Jedi. But we will try to visit as often as we can."

Obi-Wan wrapped his hand around Qui-Gon's. "I look forward to as many visits as we can manage, your highness. And perhaps tonight—?"

"Yes, tonight. We have a brief ceremony to do, if you and the Skywalkers would join us." 

"I would be honored." 

Qui-Gon smiled wistfully. He liked how Obi-Wan looked with the braid, but his mate was correct, it was time for this last symbol of his apprenticeship to be removed. "Tonight," he echoed.

~~~ 

Dinner was a delightful meal, Amidala, the Jedi, and the Skywalkers enjoying conversation together and the excellent Naboo cuisine. The talk turned serious for a while, of how Palpatine had schemed and manipulated, using the Trade Federation and playing on Amidala to become Chancellor, to keeping Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan separated until they were away from the other Jedi. But the seriousness was good, because the danger was gone, and now they could discuss ways to improve the Republic and how Amidala might serve as a Senator once her reign as Queen was ended. 

After dinner, they went out on the balcony, Amidala and the Skywalkers taking seats as Obi-Wan bent on one knee in front of Qui-Gon. 

"Obi-Wan. My love." 

Obi-Wan smiled at Qui-Gon's start. This ceremony had no set script, only for the master and padawan to speak from the heart. 

"I have been so proud to be your master, to train you in the ways of the Jedi. You have been an exemplary student and you will be a great Jedi knight. I had thought that we would separate now, that you would go on to your future. But everything has changed." He had to reach out, cupping one hand around Obi-Wan's jaw. "Words cannot convey my happiness, to know that we are bound together forever. You will always be by my side, and I swear by the Force, that I will love and cherish you for the rest of our lives." 

"Qui-Gon." Obi-Wan took a moment to nuzzle his lips into Qui-Gon's palm. "I admired you, even before you became my master, and I have been grateful every day that you chose me as your padawan. I have learned so much from you. I have been eager for this moment, to be a full knight, but have always been sorry that it meant I would separate from you. But now—now we are bonded, and I will love you forever."

"Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon lit his saber, adjusting the blade to be a thin line, using the stiletto shape to carefully slice the padawan braid from Obi-Wan's head. "I am honored to say that you have completed your training and are a full Jedi knight." 

Obi-Wan rose, accepting the braid back from Qui-Gon, and curling it into a small loop. "Qui-Gon, please accept this souvenir of our time together." 

"Gladly," Qui-Gon agreed, taking the braid back, holding it in his hand as he pulled Obi-Wan into his embrace and kissed him. Anakin clapped enthusiastically, while Amidala and Shmi sighed in delight, their approval warming Qui-Gon. 

They were Jedi, and would face many challenges together in the future. But at this moment, Obi-wan was in his arms, eager and loving, the connection between them alive with the Force. Obi-Wan, his former padawan, his fellow knight, his mate. His love, forever.


	4. Epilogue

The cries were loud and insistent, waking Ben in an instant. He rolled out of bed and was across the room, scooping little Qui out of his bassinet before he was fully awake. "Hey, baby. Little Qui. Shhh," he crooned, holding the unhappy baby to his broad chest. "Don't wake your momma." 

"He's hungry," Rey's sleepy voice said, as she scooted in bed, sitting up against the headboard. "And I have to be awake enough to hold him." 

Ben brought little Qui to her, marveling at her beauty in the pre-dawn light filtering in around the edges of the curtains. She was sleep-mussed, her brown hair in disarray, but her hazel eyes were awake and sparkling with love for her husband and son. No matter where he traveled in the universe, what wonders of his nature he would experience, Ben knew she would always be the most gorgeous vision he would ever see. 

"Here you go," she said, tugging her loose top down enough to free one breast, larger now, full of milk. Ben settled the baby in her arms, but he needed no assistance to find her nipple and latch on, satisfying his hunger with strong sucks. 

"He's a voracious eater." 

"Like his mother," Ben said, dropping kisses on her forehead, then her nose, and finally giving her lips longer attention. He stroked her hair back, smoothing the rich brown locks. Rey's appetite had been a source of stress for her growing up, not considered seemly for a young, well-bred lady of Naboo, but had become a joke between them after she'd both eaten and drunk Ben under the table. And taken a holo of herself giggling drunkenly, sitting on his unconscious chest, before passing out herself. 

"You were out late." 

Ben winced. "My head still feels it." 

"Getting beaten by the oldsters?" 

"Not them so much. Dad brought a pilot with him, a guy named Poe Dameron. I had to make sure he would live up to the Falcon."

Rey looked blank. "Live up to the Falcon?" 

"Yeah." Ben took a breath, nerving himself. Rey should be thrilled with his news, but this was still a big change for them. "Dad's going to take Dameron on a few runs. If he likes him, he's going to sell him the Falcon."

"But what about you?"

"I've been talking to Uncle Luke. I'm going to rejoin the Jedi order and finish my training." He tugged at the padawan braid in her hair. "You'll be taking your trials soon. Luke will need a new padawan."

Ben didn't need to ask if Rey was happy with his decision, her joy was evident in her eyes and wide smile.

"I thought you'd never go back."

"I was an idiot. Having you, having little Qui—" he stroked Qui's soft cheek, fascinated by his son's determination to drink every drop he needed. "It's given me time to think. To reconcile with Luke. I think Dad's even going to try to sweet talk Mom into taking him back." 

"I'm glad. Your Dad's getting a little old to be bumming around the universe. He can help take care of little Qui when I'm on missions."

"I'm so grateful to Qui's namesake." Ben thought he might cry from the intensity of emotion he felt, swallowing hard to get himself under control. "And his bond with Uncle Ben, that changed so much for the Jedi philosophy, the importance of emotion, of connection and family. It was their love that allowed my grandparents to be so happy." Sometimes scholars argued over whether Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had really been the cause of the change. After all, they were a dyad, and therefore unique; the Jedi might have allowed them to be different but continued on the same course. No, it was Anakin Skywalker being allowed to marry Senator Padme Amidala Naberrie of Naboo that was the real cause, the argument insisted. Ben didn't much care, only pleased that he'd been raised to know his parents' planets of Naboo and Corellia, and the Jedi philosophy of his grandfather and uncle.

"And of passion." 

Ben grinned, nuzzling Rey on her temple. She was still recovering, but when she had—their marriage wasn't the first to prove that Jedi could be effective with a partner, but it was one of the strongest, and Ben liked to think the most vigorous in their love-making. "Hmm… yes."

"Are you determined that Luke will be your Master?" 

"He's agreed to it. It seems logical, since I'd started my training with him." 

"I just thought—I'll be a knight. I'll need a padawan." 

That idea—learning from her, refining his lightsaber technique with her, following her on missions, maybe saving each other's lives, both of them Jedi. "You would want to? Everyone says I'm not good with authority." 

Rey grinned wickedly. "I could teach you to respect your master." Her face softened and grew serious. "If you wanted to. If you think it would work. I can't imagine anything better." 

Ben stroked his fingers through the right side of his long hair. The sides would be cut shorter as part of the still traditional padawan look, but the back would be left long for the ponytail. They'd do this again later, officially, incorporating her hair with his, but for now, he separated a few strands and began plaiting a braid. 

His padawan braid, for his master. 

His wife, his love.

~ the end ~


End file.
